


In High Places

by Firefliesonalake



Series: Instance Verse [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Humour, One-Shot, two renegade younglings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7569997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firefliesonalake/pseuds/Firefliesonalake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Female!Obi-wan/Anakin. What Obi-wan perceives to be resourcefulness, Anakin finds amusing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In High Places

**Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this.

 **Summary:** What Obi-wan perceives to be resourcefulness, Anakin understands as a source of amusement.

* * *

 

**In High Places**

Stretched onto the balls of her booted feet, Obi-wan struggles to reach her target. The object of her attention, a singular holofile is perched on a high shelf, out of arms length. After five minutes of balancing on her foot soles, she begins to feel the strain in her ankle muscles. While her body is flexible, she's no contortionist.

Falling back onto her heels, Obi-wan looks up at the shelf. She is pragmatic enough to realise tendon damage will not provide a solution. Recently dispatched from the temple infirmary, Obi-wan has no desire to visit again any time soon.

She could, theoretically use the Force to swipe the holofile off the shelf or leap into the air; however she considers casual application of one's Force abilities frivolous and unnecessary. Why use the Force, when there is always an alternative option?

Taking her eyes off the elusive holofile, Obi-wan scans her surroundings for a chair to stand upon. The nearby vicinity is unoccupied aside from a pair of small human younglings, both brown-haired boys seated at an adjacent computer terminal.

Turning her back on the shelf, Obi-wan meanders over to a vacant terminal, and removes the chair tucked under the desk. The younglings glance up from their computer screens as she passes by. Obi-wan ignores their curious whispers, remembering full well her own childhood. Inquisitive by nature, younglings will talk. With eight hundred years of teaching experience, Master Yoda has not managed to dissuade young initiates from gossip. There's no reason to assume she will fare any better.

She cannot entirely blame the younglings for their interest. A Jedi Master moving furniture in the Archives makes for an odd spectacle.

Setting the chair down before the holo-case, Obi-wan climbs onto the seat, using another shelf to pull herself up. Arms extended towards the high shelf, standing on her tip-toes once more, she is still unable to touch the holofile. Unwilling to resort to the use of Force abilities, Obi-wan springs down from the chair, and props it against the holo-case on a tilted angle.

Clambering onto the chair, she repeats the process of balancing on her soles. Reaching up Obi-wan successfully grasps onto the holo-file. Unseemly jubilation spreads through her, as Obi-wan's fingers clutch the spine of the text.

Her brief moment of elation is disrupted by a warning of her Force senses. Danger lingers close-by. Obi-wan's intentions to seize the holo-file off the shelf are undermined by the sound of stampeding footfalls and childish laughter. Peering down, Obi-wan witnesses the top of two brown-haired heads flashing past. The pair of younglings, oblivious in their game of chase knock the slanted chair.

"Wha..."

The chair wobbles to the left, and Obi-wan, balanced precariously on her soles, holofile in her grasp, is thrown sideways off the furniture. Obi-wan, spouts profane curse words, clutches the archive text and closes her eyes as she plunges to the floor.

Her descent is halted by strong, foreign arms catching her at the last moment. The Jedi Master's saviour adjusts their hold on her body, and Obi-wan's spare hand blindingly squeezes what she assumes to be, judging by the firmness, the person's shoulder.

"Obi-wan?!" A deep, and all-too familiar voice cries.

No it can't be...Of all the times!

Obi-wan's eyes shoot open to meet the dark outer tabards of a person's chest. Lifting her chin, Obi-wan eyes settle upon the anxious face of Anakin.

"Obi-wan! Are you alright?" the Jedi Knight asks, concerned.

"I am exceptional," she mutters.

"What were you doing?"

"Merely spending time in high places," she says offhand.

Anakin's brows crease. "What?"

Removing her hand from Anakin's shoulder, she raises the other, still gripping the holo-file. Anakin studies the object with a bewildered expression.

Sparing him the confusion, Obi-wan gestures to the now toppled chair, lying at the foot of the holo-case.

Anakin casts a glance at the chair, and back down to her. "You mean you were–"

"Being resourceful," she provides.

"Hold on shouldn't you be still be in the infirmary?" Anakin accuses.

"Am I to believe this is an interrogation?" she challenges.

"It is when you ambush me from above," Anakin returns.

"That was not ambush!"

A smirk tugs at Anakin's lips. "Oh and what would you call it? An _accident_?"

Cheeks flushed, the woman shifts in the Jedi Knights arms. "Anakin," she warns.

Obi-wan's admonition has no effect on Anakin's smug countenance. If anything it only serves to amuse him further.

"And here I remember you telling me accidents don't happen," he continues, much to Obi-wan's chagrin.

"A most unfortunate and rare occurrence I assure you," she tells him irritably. "Now if you don't mind, I would appreciate you letting me go."

Anakin merely tightens his hold on her body. "You're forgetting something," he says.

"And what might that be?" she snaps, not in the mood for jokes.

"A thanks for saving you from spinal injuries."

"Thank you," she says, grudgingly humbled.

Anakin grins. "That doesn't sound sincere."

"I expressed my gratitude, now let me down," she demands.

"I'll have to think about it," the cocky Jedi quips. Obi-wan squirms in his arms, no more comfortable than live bait on a fishermen's hook.

"Now Anakin!" she rebukes, conscious of the image they exhibit to potential passers-by. She is grateful for the seclusion of this quarter of the archive, and the barrier the holo-case provides from the eyes of their fellow Jedi. Her former padawan may have several positive attributes, but subtlety is not among them.

Anakin chuckles, relinquishing his hold on her body, allowing Obi-wan to slip out of his arms and gather to her feet.

Rotating her body to face him, Obi-wan glares at her former padawan. "I'm so glad you find this amusing," she huffs.

"You taught me not to always take things too seriously," Anakin informs her.

"Since when have I ever advocated that?" she asks, indignant.

"Leading by example," Anakin says.

"I don't ever recall finding someone's misfortune amusing," she chides.

"I didn't mean it like..."

"And I'm afraid I don't have time to linger here any longer," Obi-wan interrupts. She steps around Anakin, keen to put the topic to rest and begin her research for an up-coming reconnaissance mission.

The Jedi Master is hindered when Anakin seizes her wrist, prompting her to whirl on him.

"What is it now Anakin?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Anakin inquires, gesturing to the toppled chair. "Unless this is part of your plan to renovate the Archives. Though I don't believe Master Jocasta will appreciate your sense of interior design."

Obi-wan stalks past her former apprentice (and aspiring comedian), over to the fallen chair. Bending over, she situates the chair upright. When she's standing straight again, she drags the chair with her vacant hand, to the computer terminal, all the while duly ignoring Anakin.

With her task completed, Obi-wan turns her back on the terminal, and the Jedi Knight, eager to depart.

"You're welcome," Anakin calls from behind.

_One day Anakin I swear..._

Obi-wan deliberately pays no heed to his jibe, continuing on her way. Maybe, sometime in the far-off future Anakin will learn.

When shaaks fly.


End file.
